Brandon went to clean up dinner, suddenly feeling very weary. It was so hard taking care of her by himself. He threw the pizza box away and wrapped up the leftovers, listening to Mary giggle at the cartoon.
At least she would be going to bed soon enough and he'd get some time to himself. But he was starting to feel too tired to do anything. He didn't know where she got the energy.
Tomorrow, he'd make a proper meal for her. Getting her way when he agreed to get pizza had made her think she could get her way on other things.
He sat down at the table and started on getting his assignments done, occasionally glancing to make sure Mary was all right. A half hour later, which seemed like only a few minutes. "Time to shut off the TV. You can play in your room until I come for you," he said.
"But..."
"No buts," he said. "I said one half hour of television."
She pouted, but headed upstairs. Brandon resumed his work, running his fingers through his hair. He looked up at the wall clock. It was getting closer to bedtime.
He closed the books, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his things to put away in his room, and headed upstairs. He would get Mary started on her bath, then get ready for bed himself.
He found Mary playing with a set of dolls. "I probably should have had you take a bath when you were all messy earlier," he realized. Why hadn't he done that? He supposed he was more tired than he thought.
He took her hand and guided her to the bathroom. On the way, they passed by the hall closet door, which had a full mirror mounted on it.
Brandon paused, seeing himself and Mary and that feeling hit again. The one he'd had earlier, but dismissed. But this time it was stronger. He looked, really looked.
